‘Do you mean mother and Dorothy?’ they asked in one breath.
Mr Maxwell’s eyes twinkled. ‘Wild horses will not drag any more particulars out of me,’ he said; ‘only I think that you will find when you get there that there will be at least sheets on the beds, and perhaps even a cup of tea waiting for you.’ And with that the boys had to be content.
CHAPTER XXV.
WESTWARD HO!
IT is a far cry from Dinard to the west of Cornwall; and by the time they were nearing their destination on the second day of their journey both boys were feeling rather tired. But they brightened up when at last they left the train, and took their places in the coach which was to carry them over the twenty miles which lay between the last station to which the railway ran and the little fishing-village of Polwherne.
It was a lovely drive up and down steep country roads and over wide stretches of moorland, where the heather grew like a purple pall, and the wild moorfowl circled over their heads uttering shrill cries as they passed. All at once, just as the sun was setting, they seemed to come to the end of the land, for without any warning, at the top of a steep ascent, the moorland suddenly stopped, and they found themselves looking down on a wide expanse of dark-blue sea, over which the last rays of the sun shone like burnished gold.
Down below them, to the right, the cliffs fell back a little, forming a tiny bay, and here, nestling to the sides of the rocks, lay a tiny, red-roofed village, which was reached by a steep, straggling road.
It was evidently a fishing-village, for the main street ran down to a miniature harbour, which was full of boats. Farther on, running along the foot of the cliffs, was a long stretch of yellow sand, which, however, showed signs of being covered by the sea at high-tide.
‘So this is Polwherne, boys,’ said Mr Maxwell, as the driver drew up his horses for a moment’s breathing-space before they began the descent. ‘I hope you will not find it too dull. There will be lots of boating to be had, and long tramps on the moors, and in winter we must keep ourselves busy with work and books.’